


Bored at the Ball

by vitaldose



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 17:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3258791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vitaldose/pseuds/vitaldose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ficlet written three years post origins, Alistair and Eliza Cousland, the hero of Ferelden are bored at a royal ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bored at the Ball

Eliza never imagined herself sitting next to the king,  _especially_ not as the queen. But here she was, a bloody crown on her head, fur around her neck and shoes that fit so tightly she wanted to scream. 

She turned to Alistair who, she was glad to see, was just as uncomfortable as she was.

It was her fault they were there, she'd pushed for Alistair's appointment and declared herself his queen. It was a round about way of asking him to marry her she supposed, but she'd done it and now they had to deal with the consequences.

Even in her youth, her mother could never manage to dress her. She had been a respectful child, but stubborn and her poor mother had more than once referred to her Nan for help.  _Get this girl dressed for the salon or I swear on the good graces of the maker that I will pull my hair from my head until I am bald as a babe!_  Mother had always been a bit dramatic; strong as an ox and smart as a whip, but very dramatic. She missed her more now than ever.

Eliza was trained in the classics, literature and history, she could speak three languages (including a few phrases in Qunari) and knew enough alchemy to impress just about anyone. Her etiquette was impeccable and her voice clear and concise, but it didn't seem to be enough. She'd just spent three solidyears fighting darkspawn and the fact that she wasn't washing blood out of her hair made her feel incredibly restless. 

Ferelden balls were always so heavy; heavy meat, heavy ale, heavy gowns, heavy hearts. They had only began rebuilding areas that were no longer in danger of darkspawn attacks and the nation was still mourning. The landscape was charred by fire and blood and they were looking to the crown to help. If Alistair had his way, he'd drain the treasury and give all of it to the people and she was inclined to agree. But she understood what it meant to have this power and they simply couldn't bankrupt the kingdom even though it was morally the right thing to do.

Alistair had been dealing with the court much longer than she had, as she'd been heading the grey wardens in their continued to effort against the dredges of the blight. Duty was duty, but maker knew that she'd rather him be at her side than dealing with fussy nobles. They needed to placate the nobles to convince them that their money is better suited to helping the kingdom than it is lining their pockets.

She leaned back in the throne and sighed softly.

"Bored m'lady?"

"Yes and for the makers sake stop calling me that."

Alistair chuckled "I only do it because it irritates you."

"Obviously" Eliza looked out in to the ball room and gauged the guests. They all seemed to be having a good time, though a few solemn faces stood together toward the back of the room. She recognized a few people and added them to her prayers. There were people she grew up with, who were now heads of households, there were fathers who were past their days for court who had no children left to do it for them. Most everyone in the room had lost someone and it made her feel less alone.

"We could slip away, you know."

"I'm sorry?"

"We could slip away, I've done it a thousand times. It's bad etiquette definitely, but nobody would miss us, it would allow them to gossip more openly instead of-" Alistair suddenly raised his voice "-in hushed whispers."

"Alistair" Eliza couldn't help but smile, he was absolutely childish, but it was part of his charm.

"You're no fun" he inhaled deeply and leaned his head back "there are more important things we could be doing than sitting here, looking solemn."

"Right now gaining the favor of the nobles is the most important thing we can do" she adjusted herself carefully in the seat "so please keep your tantrum to a minimum."

"You have yet to see tantrum" he cocked his head his head slightly to the left and smiled "it's so nice to have you here."

Eliza looked down at her lap and then to him, ignoring the guard who was standing close enough to roll his eyes. She didn't mind it, they  _were_ occasionally sickeningly romantic "It was nice to bathe."

Alistair pouted "You simply are not going to give me this are you?"

"No my king" she turned her head back to the crowd and smiled.


End file.
